


Doesn't Strike Twice

by dionysus_bound



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: AU for 'Divided We Fall", Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dionysus_bound/pseuds/dionysus_bound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flash defeated Brainiac but could not escape the pull of the Speed Force. Six obsessive months later, John Stewart brings him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doesn't Strike Twice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Themisto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themisto/gifts).



 

 

John took a deep breath and stared at the machine. It took up half the basement storage room in his apartment building, leaving only an eight-foot circle of bare tile in front of him. The culmination of six months' worth of blood, sweat, tears and sacrifice. If it didn't work, he'd have to start from scratch. No matter what, though, he wouldn't give up.

With a deep breath, he stepped back and focused the full force of his ring on the machines power cell, igniting a chain reaction. It powered to life, and the room glowed green around him, brightening into neon yellow while the machine hummed and cycled its way to full capacity. When the noise and the light and the electricity in the air became almost too much to bare, the yellow light took on an orange tinge. It continued darkening and bleeding into a crimson cloud that filled the room.

Electricity arced in the air around him, growing in force and ferocity until it felt like he stood the middle of a storm. John didn't flinch, didn't hesitate.

Every moment of the past six months had led to this, and he wasn't giving up.

Lightning flared in the center of the room, blinding him and leaving his body tingling and galvanized.

When the spots cleared from his eyes and the haze faded, a stark silhouette lay on the floor, outlined with the fading lightning.

John dropped his hand, stopping the beam of power, and ran to the unmoving shape. He fell to his knees beside the man, carefully gathering him up and holding him close.

Flash. Wally.

Naked, unmasked, burned and trembling, in John's arms but unmistakably alive. He eyes slitted open, blinking a few times until they cleared and focused.

"John," he whispered with a warm smile, reaching up to clasp John's bicep.

Then his eyes opened wide, his face crumpled into a grimace of pain and he started screaming.

For the first time in three months, John activated his comm.

"Watchtower, two to teleport. Have medical on standby. Now!"

 

***

 

Flash's eyelids lifted slowly. John idly thought it strange to apply any variation of the word slow to the speedster while he waited for him to fully wake up. After the past few days, though, he was glad to see any movement at all. The first few hours had been touch and go. He'd had to stand by helplessly watching the medical staff and J'onn work furiously. Eventually, they'd figured out the best way to aid Wally's body in adjusting to the real world after months trapped in the Speed Force. Figured out how to stop his ceaseless pain.

When they'd finally got him stabilized, Flash had fallen into a coma. J'onn had assured John it was perfectly natural. Despite the reassurance, John had pulled up a chair beside Flash's bed and refused to leave. He'd been ignoring the strange looks and whispers of the Watchtower medical staff ever since.

He watched silently while Flash took in the room, the observation window, the monitors attached to him. Finally, his eyes fell on John, and his body relaxed back against the mattress.

"What happened?"

His voice was raw and scratchy with disuse. It made both of them wince a little and John scrambled to bring the straw of the water glass to Flash's lips.

When Flash had had enough, John set the glass down. He rested his hands on the bedding, resisting the urge to touch and reassure himself, once again, that the man in front of him was real and alive.

Instead, he asked, "What do you remember?"

"Uh, tentacle-Luthor. Which, creepy. Um, I remember, pushing everything to the max and beating Brainiac out of Lex. Then everything's… I remember the Speed Force… Oh."

"Yeah," John said softly, trying to mask the ache conjured in up in his chest at just the reminder of that day. "Oh."

"How did I get back? How long was I trapped?"

John's throat tightened. He had no idea how to explain the compulsion that had driven him for so long. At least, not in a way that wouldn't reveal too much.

"It's a long story. Let me get J'onn and the medical team to come check on you, first."

He started to turn away, but Flash's hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Don't. I don't want to be alone again," Flash insisted. His eyes, filled with panic, pleaded with John while he clutched the arm like a lifeline.

"You won't," his other hand came up to cover Flash's fingers and squeezed. "I promise. J'onn and the doctors will be in here with you, and I'll be right outside that window. As soon as they're done checking on you, I'll be right back in. Okay?"

Flash took a deep breath and a cocky smile bloomed on his lips but didn't quite make it to his eyes. Then he let go of John's hand.

"Okay."

It was John who felt unsettled and bereft when he moved to the door and away from Flash's side.

 

***

 

"You finally did it, huh?"

John jumped and tore his eyes away from where they'd been glued to the observation window. He'd been so fixated on watching J'onn and the medics run through their tests on the other side of the glass, he hadn't heard Vixen walk up to him.

Mari laughed and rolled her eyes at him. "Should have known better than to doubt you. When you put your mind to it, you're one stubborn cuss."

Guilt made him pull back a little. He cleared his throat and said the words he should have said a while ago.

"I'm sorry, Mari. Sorry about…" he trailed off, unable to find the words to encompass everything he owed her.

"About pushing me away? About letting your obsession with getting Flash back make me, and everyone who cares, worry you'd drive yourself into an early grave?"

Anger sparked in her eyes, reminding him of that last fight, when she told him to choose. And he hadn't chosen her. Then the past hurt faded from her expression, and she turned to look at Flash through the window. Her smile bloomed again when she watched him clown until he made J'onn laugh and the doctor giggle.

"I suppose, you were right, sort of. It all worked out for the best, I guess."

"Still, I could have handled it better," John admitted. And not just with Mari. He'd burned a lot of bridges in his quest.

His gaze automatically slipped back to Flash and the infectious smile he shared so freely. It was worth it, though.

She pursed her lips and stared at him thoughtfully for so long, he had to lock his muscle to keep from squirming under the perusal.

"Could you have? I'm not so sure you could have handled it any other way."

Then she patted his arm and whatever residual resentment she harbored for him seemed to have mellowed. She sauntered off down the corridor, accepting when Vigilante stepped out of the shadow where he'd been waiting and offered her his arm.

John watched them walk away for a minute, before his attention shifted back to Flash. He didn't really know if he could have done it any other way.

The moment the Speed Force warp had closed with Flash on the other side, there had been no doubt in his mind what he had to do. If it took moving heaven and earth, he was going to get Flash back.

The first three months were a blur. A constant flow of research, experiments, redesigns and re-redesigns stuffed in between League missions. He'd been burning the candle at both ends and trying to light the middle.

Shortly after the final showdown with Mari, he and the League had come to the "mutual" decision that he'd take a temporary leave of absence.

It had, however, been a tiny wake up call.

When _Batman_ lectured him on the pitfalls of obsessive, single-minded behavior, he realized it was time to take stock.

Since his most recent attempt to reach into the Speed Force had melted down spectacularly in his living room, he'd decided to go for a walk. In Central City.

It was a stark reminder that he wasn't the only one grieving. He'd never realized how many lives The Flash had touched on a daily basis. Old men fishing reminisced about Flash running on water to retrieve a prized lure. An old neighbor pushed cookies into John's hands, saying she always forgot that now, no one was coming by to watch Wheel of Fortune with her. A whole gaggle of children who missed having him come by every day to play or watch cartoons or help them with their homework.

It was easy to remember Flash as goofy and carefree. Easy to overlook that he was considerate, generous and unfailingly loyal. If he touched someone's life, he invariably made it better. Especially John's.

The first time they'd worked together, he'd thought Flash was immature, impetuous and easily distracted. And he was. He'd also saved John's life. He'd been the first one to step forward to join when Superman suggested creating the League. When they'd been trapped in the 40s, he'd been the one who'd tried to go back for John, unwilling to leave him behind.

When they'd first encountered the Justice Lords, John had grieved with his counterpart over the loss of their world's Flash, while giving thanks that he still had his. And when the Thanagarian's had invaded, Flash was the solid shoulder he'd leaned on. The one who had his back. The one who listened to every bit of whining, anger, self-loathing and hostile resentment that had boiled inside of him.

John's walk had eventually led him to the Flash museum. Conceived as a celebration of his life and deeds, it now stood as a memorial. It had been too much and he'd nearly buckled from the grief. His heart ached and throbbed, and his knees had gone weak with the emotions unleashed.

When he'd finally remembered how to breathe again, his resolved was sharpened but so was his focus. He'd been throwing anything and everything at the problem and spinning his wheels. He'd still intended to do whatever it took to get Flash back, but he was going to work smart and methodically.

Because he finally understood exactly what Flash meant to him. He finally understood the feelings he'd frantically been trying to ignore in his zeal.

He was in love with his best friend.

And had been for a long time.

J'onn came out of the room, pulling John out of his introspection while the doctor and her staff finished up with Flash. John took a moment to tuck away all those feelings he didn't want the Martian to accidentally read and composed himself.

"How is he?"

"He's recovering normally in most respects," J'onn answered, stoic and gravely reserved as always.

"I hear a 'but' in there."

A hint of grief tugged at J'onn's expression before it smoothed out. "He currently does not possess his super-speed."

Concerned and still feeling overprotective, John started to push past J'onn to go to Flash, but the Martian stopped him. "It is not hopeless. His speed and reaction are still well above normal for an average human. Dr. Martin believes he will eventually regain his full abilities. It will just be a matter of time for his body to adjust to no longer being merged with the Speed Force."

John stared past J'onn's shoulder, watching Flash flirt with the pretty doctor. Despite the light-hearted banter, he could see the strain of doubt and fear under the mask of carefree laughter.

"All right," John said and let out a long, frustrated breath. "What can I do for him?"

"What you've been doing. Be there for him. Don't give up on him. Don't let him give up on himself."

 

***

 

A couple of hours later, John once again found himself watching Flash sleep. When he'd first come back into the room, Flash had deflected every attempt to discuss his situation with flippant comments and self-deprecating humor. Eventually, John took the hint and let the subject drop. Instead, he entertained his friend with the bits and pieces of Watchtower gossip he'd overheard while hanging around the medical bay the past few days.

Wally fell asleep halfway through the rumor about Supergirl and Captain Atom, and John had allowed himself to drowse in the chair next to the bed. He'd gotten use to sleeping there, and nothing was going to move him short of Flash throwing him out.

It was the muffled cries that first pulled John back up toward consciousness. By the time he stood up and leaned over the bed to check, Flash was shouting and thrashing in his sleep.

"Where are you? Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone!"

The panic and desperation broke John's heart and he moved into action, trying to wake Flash without frightening him more. Trapped deep in the nightmare, he didn't shake free of it until John was on the bed. He had one arm wrapped around Flash's waist, the other hand cradling the back of his head, whispering soothingly into soft red hair. Flash pushed in close, hands tangling tightly in the cotton of John's shirt, like he was holding on for dear life. Eventually, terror gave way to soft, quiet sobs.

"Sorry. Sorry," Flash repeated the apology, easing back and forcing a grin that wasn't fooling anyone. "Reliving the horror of dinner with green jello instead of chocolate pudding."

His attempt at flippant humor fell flat, but John tried to smile reassuringly, anyway.

"Flash—"

"GL, I'm fine. No worries."

John deliberately glanced down at the hands still clenched in his shirt. Flash followed his gaze and groaned.

"Oops. Sorry. Again." He let go, smoothing out the wrinkles before he flopped backward onto the bed. "You don't have to hang out here. This place is kind of depressing."

John stared at him, then ran his hand over his jaw and shifted closer to the edge of the narrow bed to give Flash a little more space.

"This is depressing?" John muttered without thinking about it. He just wanted to change the subject before Flash seriously threw him out. He wasn't ready to let Flash out of his sight. "My apartment is filled with discarded blueprints, wires, gears and various bits and pieces of scientific and magic paraphernalia. I spent the last two weeks sleeping on a cot in the basement."

"Why?"

John raised an eyebrow and stared hard at Flash, figuring the reason should be obvious.

Flash glanced away, for a second, and when he looked back at John, he seemed determined. "J'onn said you spent six months trying to get me back, even though everyone told you it was impossible."

"I did."

"He said they were worried about you. Your health, I mean." Flash added quickly, uncertainty and concern tightening the lines of his face.

"And my sanity," John added the unspoken thought for him. "You don't have to sugarcoat it. I had my own doubts, from time to time."

"Then why?"

This was it. He could lie. Or muddle the conversation. Talk about friendship and loyalty and honor. But he'd be shaming those values he cherished with the stain of deception.

John shifted a bit and stared down at his hands.

"Because I love you." He took a deep breath, and faced Flash, meeting his eyes. "I'm in love with you."

Flash stared, mouth open and moving, but no words came out. Any other time, making Flash speechless would have felt like a victory. Now it felt like the final nail in their friendship.

John let his eyes drop again, gathering all his resolve to leave when Flash asked. He wouldn't go far, though. Couldn't. He still needed to be close enough to be sure Flash fully recovered.

Finally, Flash let out a long, steady exhale.

"Really? Me? But you always date girls?"

He sounded curious, and a little intrigued. Not the reaction John expected from his revelation. Uncertain, he looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"Not always. You met Rex Mason."

"You and Mason? Huh." Flash nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense. Why didn't you say anything before? About your feelings for me, I mean."

"I didn't realize exactly what I felt, how deep it went, until I stepped back and examined why I was so obsessed with getting you back."

"So. Just a reaction to me dying then," Flash's voice dropped and filled with doubt. He bit his lip and chewed it between his teeth.

"No," John insisted, a little more forceful than he'd intended. Determined to make sure Flash knew his feelings were real and sincere. "Because of who you are. Brave. Impetuous. Funny. Irritating. Generous, kind, loyal and someone I did not want to imagine my life without."

Silence filled the room again, and John's body started to vibrate with tension eating away at the air.

"I love you, too," Flash said, keeping his eyes and his voice steady.

Elation ripped through John, followed hard by fear. He'd sprung this on Flash when he was still weak and recovering.

"You don't have to say…"

"Shut up," Flash said and rolled his eyes, shifting closer until he could grip John's hand with his own. "I've had a crush on you from the moment you pulled me out of that mud pit the very first mission. It never really went away. Just got bigger. But there was Shayera. Then Vixen. Best friend was better than nothing."

Before John could question, or even think, Flash tugged on his hand, yanking him off balance. He caught himself, but Flash used his precarious position against him, cupping John's jaw and pulling him in for a sweet, tentative kiss.

John moaned and pressed in, deepening the kiss, letting himself drop fully on Flash's chest while he tried to get closer. Flash groaned into his mouth and shuddered under him.

A split second of sanity pulled him back from the edge, and he levered himself up, so his full weight was no longer resting on the injured Flash.

"Are you sure? You're still recovering."

"I'm slower, not dead," Flash muttered darkly and pulled insistently until John's lips met his again. John indulged himself in the embrace, but kept it slow and gentle and exploring. Eventually they settled comfortably on the bed together, exhaustion getting the better of both of them. They fell asleep together on the narrow bed, Wally the little spoon, their fingers tangled tightly where John's arm curved around his waist.

 

***

 

A whisper of cool wind woke John, and he panicked to find he was alone in the bed. Before he could clear the cloud of sleep from his brain, though, another rush of air ran over him. Suddenly, he had an armful of Wally once again.

"Sorry, man. Just had to use the little super-heroes room. Didn't mean to wake you."

"Wally, you were fast," he said, sleep-slow brain not quite saying what he meant.

"Well, yeah, I didn't dawdle… Oh," his head whipped toward the bathroom and back like he was replaying the trip in his head. "Oh."

"Yeah," John smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Wally's mouth.

Wally grinned, wide and bright, holding up his arm. His hand was shaking so fast it was nothing but blur and wind.

"Yeah," he echoed and kissed John back. "Just so we're clear, I don't do _everything_ fast."

"Good to know," John said, trying not to laugh and failing. Then Wally's hand slid under the sheets, and John grabbed it before it wandered too far.

"Fast or slow, we are _not_ doing anything in a room with an observation window."

Wally pouted for a few minutes but drifted off to sleep quickly. John tugged him a little closer and let the warmth and reality of Wally alive and breathing in his arms lull him to sleep as well.


End file.
